


Hell Is Nothing In Your Arms

by Archangelsings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Supernatural/Occult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:45:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangelsings/pseuds/Archangelsings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>STEREK FAN FIC! RATED M FOR LATER CHAPTERS! Ok so spring break has come to an end, Gerards gone, Stiles is happily with Derek, life couldnt be any better right? Wrong. Stiles starts suffering from nightmares, a new transfer student isnt what he seems, and Gerards back. Topped with a growing love square, homework, and running for his life how does he have time for love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flaming Dreams, Tender Hands

**Author's Note:**

> NO EDITOR! SORRY FOR SPELLING/GRAMMAR MISTAKES HOPE THEY DONT TAKE AWAY TOO MUCH!

"Fire burned to ash, ash burst to flame, flame died to earth, earth encompassed fire."

It was hot. Very, very VERY hot…and that was an understatement. Stiles wiped his brow expecting to see sweat but, his hand come away dry.

"Well that's a paradox," He mumbled to himself looking at his surroundings, "How the hell am I sweating but not wet?"

He took a few tentative steps forward, the ground brittle and black under his feet like volcanic ash, and resisted the urge to fall into a panic attack, trying, instead, to send that energy into figuring out where the hell he was and how heck to get out of it. He would have assumed that he was at some volcanic site but the sky was off, it was a deep crimson red, the color of blood, the clouds almost the color of bruises.

Stiles gulped and shivered despite the intense heat, goosebumps covering his dry arms. Looking around really wasn't helping his anxiety levels and he was beginning to regret even opening his eyes. The more he saw, the worse he got. Strange black cylindrical spires rose from the ground like long damning nails on flesh. Black goo filled pools looking like the blood that had spewed out of Gerards mouth after Derek bit him. Stiles shivered at the memory despite the heat. It was like he wasn't even on Earth anymore.

"You're not, to answer your question."

Stiles spun around his heart pounding in his throat. He was getting dangerously close to having a total meltdown.

"Well…that's not exactly right."

Stiles shakily turned again the voice seeming to come from the opposite direction this time. Yet their was no one there.

"You are but you aren't."

Stiles licked his lips and cleared his throat; he opened his mouth to speak, "W-who are you?"

He cringed at the sound of his voice. He had meant to sound calm or sarcastic or even nonchalant but instead his voice came out as a squeaking falsetto, his traitorous voice revealing his fear to and anxiety to the stranger…wherever he was.

The voice laughed finding Stiles discomfort charming in a way, but gave no direct answer.

"Just remember, dreams and reality, they are more entwined than you think."  
"The heck is that supposed to mean," Stiles squeaked out.

The voice laughed again, this time sounding farther away, the ground beginning to shake.

"Fire burned to ash, ash burst to flame, flame died to earth, earth encompassed fire."  
"What the heck?! Answer me dammit!"

Stiles fell to his knee's as the shaking grew more violent, fire spewing from the cracks, ash filling the air burning his skin.

"Fire burned to ash, ash burst to flame, flame died to earth, earth encompassed fire."

He rolled out of the way as a spire crumbled and fell, its chunks narrowly missing his skinny frame.

"Fire burned to ash, ash burst to flame, flame died to earth, earth encompassed fire."

Stiles panic left him, his fear translating into the adrenaline of survival and he scrambled to his feet as this strange world began falling apart. He ducked under a ledge the exits being effectively blocked a few seconds later by fallen spires. Stiles ran to the other side and pushed against the rocks, knowing it was impossible but refusing to give into the panic slowly bubbling back to the surface.

"No no no no no no no," Stiles said to himself as he slumped against the block wall in defeat.

The shaking hadn't stopped, in fact it had gotten worse. Stiles gave up, and began to cry, his panic attack finally reaching the fore front of his being, consuming his coherent thoughts, dragging him into darkness as the ground drew him into itself.

"Stiles!" Came the urgent whisper, "Stiles, wake up."

A firm grip clasped his shoulder while another clamped over his mouth, muffling the scream that escaped his lips, as his eyes flew open.

"Hhppmmhph," Came Stiles muffled cry for help.

He struggled against his captor, flailing about wildly in his bed.

"Quit it Stiles, it's me, Derek," Derek hissed in his ear, still holding him down with one arm.

Slowly, his room swam into focus. His computer on his desk, the posters on his walls, his comics strewn across the floor, his Magic cards on his night stand. No blackened spires, no crimson sky, no pools of black blood, just himself , his things…and Derek Hale. Stiles let out a shaky breath, taking in Derek's scent, forever like pine needles and sweat, his pulse returning to normal and nodded to Derek to let him go.

Tentatively Derek complied, and Stiles pushed himself into a sitting position.

"I always knew I was allergic to calculus," Stiles said noticing, his calculus book next to him on the bed, trying to relieve the tension in the room.

Derek stared at him, his face a blank mask, only Stiles trained eye could see the concern hidden behind it and handed him a bottle of water. Stiles took the bottle from him, and took a small sip from it, waiting for Derek to speak, suppressing a shiver caused by the now open window. First dreadful heat, and now an almost painful cold.

Derek sighed and climbed into bed next to him draping his large, muscled arms around Stiles, pulling him into a compassionate hug, obviously sensing Stiles discomfort. They sat like that for a few moments, Derek absentmindedly rubbing Stiles wrist. He bent his head and kissed the top of Stiles short cropped head before speaking.

"Was it the same dream?"

Stiles nodded, and leaned farther into Derek, wanting to get lost in his warmth, really wanting to forget the whole incident.

"It's not really a dream you know, dreams have prancing unicorns and rainbow fields, this is just a black and red hell."

Derek hugged him tighter, as if he could squeeze out all of Stiles pain.

"It'll get better," He whispered in his ear, biting it gently.  
"I know," Stiles replied, ignoring the tease and closing his eyes, his breath and heart beat now matching Derek's. The steady anchor known as Derek, lulling him back to sleep.

Derek signed and rested his cheek on Stiles head, knowing nothing more would be coming out of tonight.

"Derek," Stiles mumbled groggily.  
"Hmm."  
"Don't even think about leaving."

Derek chuckled silently, a small half smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  
"Of course not."


	2. Penguins and Shrooms

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Stiles groaned as his batman alarm clock blared in his ears.

"Derek," He whined from his cocoon under the covers, "Turn it off…just…five more minutes."

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Nothing happened.

"Derek?" Stiles called again after his alarm continued beeping.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Ass," he whispered under his breath as he crawled out from under his blankets to press the snooze button.

Of course Derek would leave even after Stiles explicitly asked him not to. It wasn't even seven a.m yet, he'd set his alarm thirty minutes early just for that reason. Where the fuck does he go so early in the morning, Stiles wondered. Stiles shook his head and ran a hand through his short cropped hair with a sigh and got out of bed. Might as well get ready since he was up.

He walked to his bathroom and turned on the shower, leaving it on cold, and jumped right in, hoping the sudden dose of frigid water would wake him up fully.

"Shit!" Stiles gasped out as the water hit him. Damn it was cold. Waaaaay too cold, colder than he'd wish a polar bear to have to endure…or…some other animal that lives in the artic like a….a…. He frowned, totally blanking on what another artic animal was and turned up the water, his brow and lips furrowing as he tried to remember.

"Penguin!" He exclaimed aloud, snapping his fingers together and stepping out the shower, making a mental note to never, ever use the cold water in the shower; that a penguin was an ant artic creature…which originally lived in warm tropical regions but due to plate tectonics and time ended up at the bottom of the world where they remain to this very da-

Stiles shook his head and took a deep breath to focus his thoughts. It was way too early to be having mental tangents, especially about penguin theory…which reminded him, he really should take his meds before he ended up talking about penguins and polar bears and pokemon and trees and- Stiles shook his head again. Yep definitely needed to take his Aderall.

"Aderall, Aderall, oh where is my Aderall," He muttered to himself as he checked the places it usually sat on his desk, "I could've sworn it was here…"

Stiles turned around, hands on his hips, and quickly scanned the room again. Wasn't on the T.V console, wasn't on his bean-bag chair, wasn't just laying on the floor not on his bed, it was on his nightstand, not on chest of drawe-

"Oh!" His eyes whipped back to his nightstand and he quickly strode over, pushing other thoughts aside, and grabbed the bottle.

He opened it with a familiar crack and dropped two pills in his hand and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry…something he'd become very good at doing over the years…even more so now that Derek was in the picture, his eyes drawn to a paper that had been underneath his pill bottle. It was a note. Probably from the great abandoner, Derek.

Stiles turned away, an incredulous look on his face. Like hell was he going to read the liars excuse note, he was still only wrapped in a towel, clothes where more important than stupid notes. Stiles stormed over to his closet in a huff and threw up the door, grabbing a shirt and a pair of pants at random, stopping when he felt the note calling to him.

He bit his lip…welllll…what if it was a valid excuse? Besides, he was still in a towel. Ok. Note first, clothes second. He nodded to himself confirming his plan and tossed his clothes on his bed; sitting down to read the note:

Stiles, I figured you'd probably forget where you left your Aderall again so I'll just put it on your nightstand where I know you'll see it…eventually. Sorry I couldn't stay, Pack business came up, something about hallucinogenic mushrooms…I'll tell you about it later.   
-Derek  
P.s Don't be a sour wolf

"Psh, "Don't be a sour wolf" my ass, that's my phrase, copy cat," Stiles said after reading the note only, half angry with him, and beginning to place it in his pocket for later only then remembering he was still naked.

Hallucinogenic mushrooms? He thought as he pulled on the "I heart Wearwolves" T-shirt, the one with a cartoon man hiding under a wolf's pelt by a rock, and red sweatpants, completely oblivious to the fashion disaster he wore that could only be called the Stiles, completing the look with his red hoody, the red starting to fade at the top from over exposure to sun, rain and wind. That sounded so far fetched it has to be true.

"Stiles!" His dad, Sheriff Stillinski, called down from the kitchen, "Get down here! I made pancakes!"

"Pancakes?!" Stiles yelled back, in surprise.

When had his dad gone down stairs?

"Yes numbskull, now get down here before they cold! Don't forget Scott will be here soon!"  
"Ok, ok coming!"

Stiles crammed his books into his bag, stuffed the note in his pocket next to his cell phone and bonded down stairs, so glad his hair was short enough to not have to worry about maintaining it.

"Oh my god, you really made pancakes, what's the occasion?" Stiles asked when he hit the bottom and turned into the kitchen.  
"Nothing, it's just the first day of school after Spring Break, and you know…I never got to congratulate you properly on winning the Lacrosse Championship, you know with you disappearing for a day and all….sooo…here."  
"Great way to kill the mood dad," Stiles said sarcastically, only half meaning what he said, and sitting down across from him.  
"Sorry," His dad replied awkwardly.

Ah, awkward Dad. What can you say, like father like son, two awkward peas in an awkward pod.

"No prob," Stiles replied just as awkwardly and began to eat. Oh how he missed his dad's pancakes.

The meal went by relatively easily after that, Stiles eating his weight in pancakes, his dad sneaking extra bacon from the pan after Stiles specifically said not to, giving him the "You're going to clog your arteries and end up in the hospital again" speech. With his dad responding with the "You're old enough to take care of yourself, let me eat my bacon and die happy." retort.

Finally Stiles gave up, and let his dad have his way knowing the moment he walked out the door he'd eat it anyway, and grabbed his keys from the key rack hanging on the wall next to the refrigerator.

"I'm gonna go kidnap Scott now." He called over his shoulder, "Save him the misery of walking here today."  
"Mhm," His dad mumbled with his mouth full.  
"Don't forget your salad,"  
His dad made a face.

"Eat it, you already had more than enough bacon. Don't make me have to ask your secretary."

"Ok ok get out of here already Stiles."

"Leavin'."

…

As it turned out by the time Stiles got out to his jeep, threw his backpack in the back, adjusted his rearview mirror and strapped in, Scott was in his driveway, curse his werewolf powers.

"Morning," Scott said with a tap on the window, his signature goof ball grin pasted on his face.  
"Morning," Stiles replied unlocking the door for him to get in.  
"Great day for school isn't it," Scott said happily, as Stiles backed out of his driveway and toward Beacon Hills High.  
"I wouldn't say great, I'd go with Ominous, or maybe…despairing."  
"Dude, that's like…depressing."  
"Well yes, that's generally my outlook as it pertains to 'school'"  
"You're just jealous that you still haven't gotten a girlfriend or had sex."  
"Ha! Ridiculous." Stiles said shifting uncomfortably, his thoughts instantly going to Derek, and Derek touching him…kissing him…stroking him…biting him…fuc-

Stiles shook his head and wet his lips with his tongue replying again, "Why would I be jealous of you, you numbskull, and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible."  
"Tcch, insults to one's intelligence is just the nerds way of compensating brawn…and wolfy senses."

Stiles shot him a look and punched him in the arm lightly, "Ok you can not bring werewolf powers into this conversation, in case you forgot that's not exactly normal."  
"Watever, you're still jelly."  
"Jelly?"  
"What? Not working?"  
"Nope."  
"Well at least I have fashion sense."  
"Ouch, I take offense to that, you didn't even have fashion sense before Allison, don't act so superior, and don't forget you two aren't together anymore"  
"Not right now, but we're meant to be."

Stiles gagged and Scott's dreamy expression and sighed in relief as they pulled into the school's parking lot. Scott was even gayer than he was at times and that was saying something considering he was the one with a boyfriend…who he had neglected to tell Scott about…who would probably flip out the moment he found out.

God he hated high school.


	3. Unwanted Feelings, Enlightened Visions

The first day back to school was always hell. There was just no way around it; it was one of those unavoidable truths of the universe. School Breaks equal Yay! Back to School equals Nay. Especially after spring break. The one week that by the last day leaves you finally feeling like you can start to relax, only to wake up the next day at seven in the morning to have the wonderful slap to the face that yes indeed you have to drag your sorry ass out of that warm comfortable cocoon known as a bed and come to hell on earth for eight hours doing mindless work that requires absolutely no thinking that by the end of four years spews you out into the real world with a that letter grade on a report card like graded meat, like A for this mother fucker is a world class bubble answer filler, B this is a decent bubble answer filler, C this kid is average at filling in bubble answers, D this kid draws superman's logo on the test, and F for this kid doesn't give a fuck about your little bubble test and would rather work at Burger King then conform topped off with eager corporate faces waiting to hire you to be the next CEO of the biggest company in America.

That's the idea anyway.

Most the time it doesn't quite work that way.

Stiles sighed and got out of his jeep, wanting to be anywhere but where he was, Scott's early morning ramblings going in one ear and out the other. Could the dude really not get a life outside goggling at Allison Argent, who ,he might add, tried to kill EVERYONE? Sometimes he just couldn't understand his best friend.

The two of them walked through the doors of Beacon Hills High, Stiles suppressing a shiver, his mind holding thoughts of crossing the boundaries between life and death…heaven and hell…yin and yang…green eggs and ham…yeah…time to up the Aderall dosage. Stiles shook his head clearing it, he really needed to stop hanging out with werewolves, they where making him really fucking paranoid.

"Yo, dude are you even listening?" Scott asked after he realized Stiles hadn't said anything in the last five minutes, a personal best for him.  
"Huh? Yeah, Allison's super sexy, gives great head, blah blah blah,"Stiles replied his voice lightly tinged in sarcasm.  
Scott made a face, "What's up with you?"

Stiles paused to think. What was wrong with him? Well, besides the non stop nightmares, over-age werewolf boyfriend that no one knew about…couldn't know about, his ADD, and of course his…what did his counselor call it…hyper vigilance which he might add had happened all because of Scott and this werewolf business…or rather because of him dragging Scott out into the woods in the middle of the night to get bitten by a psychotic werewolf who dragged him into this weird ass werewolf business…yeah other than that absolutely nothing.

"Nothing," Stiles said with a light laugh, trying to blow it off "Why would anything be the matter? You know, just…in school…hanging…"  
"Dude, people don't 'hang' at school, and in case you've forgotten we just got here five minutes ago,  
I don't think 'hanging' starts until at least ten."  
"Pssh, all the cool people hang at school, where've you been…hanging…all this time?"  
"Well, after lacrosse a lot of times I'd go with Allison in the woods to-"  
"OKAY, do not need to elaborate further man, really, my pure ears need to be kept that way."  
Scott looked like a kicked puppy, "I was just going to say that we talk."  
"Oh god, and here comes the old married couple," Stiles responded sarcastically as the bell rung, "Well gotta run, see ya second period."

Stiles turned away from his friend feeling guiltily relieved that he had an excuse to get away. It wasn't that he hated Scott, he loved him to death, but sometimes the Allison Chronicles could be a bit much to handle. Stiles walked into his first period, AP Calculus, and went to his seat in the back of the class, trying to as hard as possible to disappear completely before the rest of the students appeared.

He had never felt comfortable in his AP classes knowing, even if they never verbalized it, that they hated his presence. They hated the scrawny awkward ADD kid who had invaded their senior classes. He was the sophomore who didn't belong.

Stiles slouched deeper into his seat, his chin tucked into his chest, legs as close to him as comfortably possible, his eyes focused on a doodle on the desk as Lydia, the only other person his grade in this class, walked into the room. His heart skipped a beat.

Lydia.

His head snapped up, his face contorting into his signature, awed, fish face, the face Lydia always managed to tease out of him. Lydia…now she belonged.

Lydia smirked at his expression, and sauntered over to him, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing seductively off her shoulders, her lips full and glossy with lip gloss, dressed in a stunning green dress, he shoulders covered by a black shawl, that brought out the color of her eyes and hair. She was absolutely gorgeous.

She took out a mirror and pursed her lips, touching up her already perfect make-up, sounding bored and slightly irritated as if she was above everyone, which, in his opinion, she was.

"Hello Stiles."

Stiles felt his face heat up, silently hating the effect she still had over him. He was with Derek, she was with Jackson, he wasn't supposed to like her anymore, he loved Derek, he was the only one who had been there for him when he was at his worst, the only one who even noticed.

"Oh, h-h-hey Lydia, how was your break?" His voice cracked, much to his dismay, and Lydia's eyes focused on his, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

She closed her mirror with a snap, placing it slowly into her bag before replying, "It was good."  
"Have fun with Jackson?" Stiles managed to keep his voice from cracking this time.  
"Hmm," She paused, "Sure…but…he had more fun, let's just say I did a lot of sucking for his benefit."

She gave him a look and Stiles felt his cheeks grow even redder…was she…flirting with him? No. Impossible. She was happily with Jackson, she's just making…really…really...really awkward conversation.

"Well, I'm going to go sit now, you know…at that desk in the front."

She got up from the desk she was sitting on and walked away, shooting him one backwards glance before sitting down and again busying herself with her make-up.

That had been beyond weird.

The bell rang and class started, the rest of the seats filling up quickly. Their teacher, Ms. Lygus, began promptly, first collecting their work and second assigning more before sitting behind her desk to grade papers, leaving them to work out the problems themselves. Most of them worked in pairs or small groups, but Stiles didn't, he stayed where he was, hunched over his book working quickly, not knowing how much time he'd have after school to finish.

The bell rang ending first period and Stiles collected his papers before heading to his next class Chemistry with Mr. Harris, probably the only teacher who had ever wanted to make his life a living hell on purpose. Though to his credit he couldn't blame him fully considering his dad had gotten him arrested fairly recently…of course his dad had then been temporarily relieved of his job right after, but hey what did that matter?

Stiles walked into the room and approached the empty desk next to Scott which, thankfully, hadn't been taken by Allison yet, Scott's intoxicating grin worming its way on Stiles face.

"Yo dude, how was first period with the brainiacs?"  
"Boring, we just worked solo for the whole class."  
"Now was that because you had to or because you decided to?"  
"Because I wanted to, duh."  
"Well then, you shouldn't complain about it being boring."

Stiles shot him a look.

"Don't patronize me this early in the morning Scott."

Scott held his hands up in defeat, "Ok, ok dude, just saying."

"Ahem, Mr. McCall…Stilinski, if you two wouldn't mind shutting your mouths we could begin the class on time for once." Mr. Harris called out to them.

"The bell hasn't even rung yet sir," Stiles protested.  
"Stilinski," He replied in a warning tone.  
Stiles closed him mouth with a tight lipped expression, "Shutting up."

"Thank you," Mr. Harris turned to face the rest of the class, "Now then I would like to introduce a new student to you, he comes all the way from Rome. Come in Fabian."

You could feel the collective gasp when Fabian walked into the room, tall dark and handsome, with wavy black hair, dark chocolate eyes, and light caramel skin, he cast a spell on the room, one that demanded he be looked at and listened to, one that screamed leadership and servitude. He didn't look very Italian at all, more like he came from somewhere else like maybe India…though with his features you couldn't easily place him with one race in particular. You could see the girls all want to swoon in their seats…which would've been a funny sight, except Stiles was too busy feeling squimish under the unrelenting gaze of the new boy who, upon entering, made immediate eye contact with him.

"Hello," Fabian said to the class in an accent Stiles had never heard before.

His voice was smooth and melodic, constantly moving, each word taking you on a journey to another place. It was as if heaven had been verbalized. With that one word he had silenced everyone, with that one word he held them all in his power.

They looked at him awestruck, his voice still reverberating in the room, resonating with each soul, rocking them to their cores, their aura's screaming for him to speak again.

He didn't leave them waiting for long.

"I am Fabian Mephisto, pleasure to make your aquaintances," He turned to Mr. Harris, "Now where shall I sit?"

Mr. Harris stared dumbly at him for a moment before regaining his composure and responding, his gaze shifting to where Stiles and Scott sat, an evil spark flashing in them for a moment, "Uhm, Mr. McCall, please give Fabian your seat."

Scott's mouth dropped, and he looked like a kicked puppy all over again. Stiles felt a pang of sympathy for his friend, how embarrassing to be forced to sit in the back

"Wh-what?! Why can't Fabian sit in the back?"  
"Because I said so and because I believe you and Mr. Stilinski could use a break from each other."  
"But-"  
"No but's move or I'll give you dentition, no scratch that you have lunch detention now and if you don't move in the next five seconds I'll give you detention after school too."

Scott gaped at Mr. Harris a few moments before moving, head bowed an aura of defeat and humiliation flowing from him. Stiles sent him an apologetic look, hoping his sympathy was received, turning back around when Scott sat down, coming face to face with Fabian's amused expression. He held out his hand and Stiles took it.

He gasped.

The world spun away, the sky turned red, the ground shifted and melded into black charred earth, the class dissolving at the seams. Then it was gone, Fabian's hand no longer in his, leaving Stiles ghostly white and sweating.

"What the fuck are you?" He whispered up to him, shaking slightly.  
"Your new best friend…or your worst nightmare."


	4. Unavoidable Encounters, Hated Occurances

Stiles slammed his lunch tray angrily on the table which in turn quaked under the force of the blow. Scott looked up, startled, and took a bite out of his apple, his eyes doing the questioning for him. Stiles took no notice sighing in exasperation as he crumpled down to sit in front of him.

"What?" Stiles demanded after a few moments under Scott's unrelenting gaze.

"What happened?"

"Oh you noticed," Stiles droned out monotonously, voice dripping with sarcasm and venom.

"I always notice," Scott replied, looking hurt and surprised.

Stiles sighed and reached for his bag of chips, biting back a stinging comment that he knew he'd regret later if he let it out, and opened them, his rage exacting more force than he meant to use causing its contents to fly out in a myriad of salt covered corn triangles.

"Shit."

He slammed the empty bag on the table and set his mouth, obvious irritation written all over his face.

"Does the world hate me?!" Stiles demanded gesturing upwards wildly, "God smite me now if this has to continue."

He dropped his head onto the table with a groan.

"So, what happened?" Scott asked again after a minute of Stiles self pity act, "Stop bitching and tell me."

Stiles looked up at him steadily for a moment before responding with his usual high spirited uncontrollable energy, an energy usually fueled with joy now fueled with a need for vengeance.

He exploded.

"Fucking Fabian!" He began, "Fucking teachers, fucking students fucking everything! This kid has made myself more miserable in the three hours I've known him, then the time freaking Gerard went ballistic and kidnapped me...ok well maybe not that bad, I just bout wet my pants that time but…"

He took a breath.

"And to make it even worse, every single teacher has placed him right next to me, I mean the fuck! It's like he has some creepy mind control that's forcing him in my space and I hate it. Not to mention the dude keeps giving me these weird looks, it's freaking disconcerting."

"That's it?"

"What do you mean 'that's it'?" Stiles demanded angrily.

"He hasn't done anything to you, I don't see why your getting so worked up."

Stiles scoffed, "Since when where you the voice of reason?"

"What?" Scott said looking confused.

Stiles gaped at him, his mouth hanging open slightly, "The voice of reason? You know the character in Romantic literature, the mediator? Ringing a bell?"

"Nope."

"Well that's fantastic."

Scott smiled looking proud and stood up with his tray clapping Stiles on the back as he walked by.

"Well I gotta go before Mr. Harris decides to give me after school detention for being late to lunch detention."

Stiles mentally kicked himself for not remembering, "Yeah ok man, see ya at practice."

Scott smiled and nodded.

BAM! Stiles went flying, the force of the tackle knocking the air out of him, his world spinning wildly. He felt himself falling, and flailed, struggling to regain his balance on the slippery grass of the Lacrosse field.

"Stilinski! Get your head in the game!" His coached yelled at him.

"It is," He mumbled picking himself up out of the mud.

"Ok," He said to himself picking up the ball, "I can do this."

Then he charged.

He smiled to himself as he slipped through the cracks of his team mates defense, the constant running from werewolves finally paying off…which was something he should have thought of before running into a crowd of them. Scott, Jackson, and Isaac stood in front of him, making themselves an impenetrable wall. They moved in sync, some sort of unspoken language passing between them…probably a pack thing. Stiles skidded to a halt panic rising in his throat. He was so close, couldn't he just once make a goal?

He backed away, glancing over his shoulder, his stomach hitting the floor as he did so, the rest of the team had recovered and was coming to get him. He was stuck between a rock an a hard place. Stiles closed his eyes, giving up with a sigh, there was no where to go, better accept the pain and move on.

Except it never came.

The coach blew his whistle at the last moment, the team collectively turning their heads as he rushed over looking stricken.

"Stiles," He said after a moment, "Where's Stiles?"

Stiles gulped, dread creeping in his stomach, as the team parted to let him through.

"What is it coach?" He squeaked out.

The coach cleared his throat looking awkwardly away from him, "Well…I hate to have to tell you this…I really don't want to, but your stuck with me so-"

"Just spit it out please," Stiles said his anxiety making him snappish.

"Ok, ok…your dad…he's in the hospital…he had a heart attack."

He took off his helmet, the coaches words reverberating in his ears, everything else around him fading into the background. Hospital. Heart attack. His dad. No. It was impossible, he couldn't be in the Hospital. He was ok, there was nothing wrong with him. Impossible, impossible, impossible.

Stiles felt the world around him tilt as if on stilts and he stumbled forward, his body forcing him towards the locker room slowly. Deliberately.

"Stiles," His coach called, "Stiles!"

"What," Stiles responded turning around. He felt numb and cold, a wall coming over him to protect his own feelings from desolation, the familiar mask clouding his face. Stiles was no longer there. No, what was there was his empty shell.

His coach didn't answer him just stuttered and ordered Scott to take him to the hospital. He willingly agreed and broke away from the rest of the group, most of which were still in shock, probably just feeling grateful that it wasn't their parents in the hospital. Stiles didn't care, he just kept moving forward, not even registering that Scott was calling out to him to slow down, his mind had already focused on something else. The only thought that was keeping him from having a total breakdown right there in the middle of the field.

Derek.

He needed Derek, he needed him now.

Stiles reached the locker room and opened his locker, working on autopilot as he switched into his street clothes not bothering to shower. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone.

Derek, where r u?

The response came almost instantly.

The Hale house, why?

My dad, he's in the hospital…he had a heart attack, freaking out.

On my way

Stiles sighed and put away his phone breathing slowly and evenly doing his best to keep himself from panicking, he would not have a break down in the locker room, he was stronger than that. Scott arrived and picked up Stiles bag, without a word taking out his Jeep keys, tapping Stiles on the arm as he passed. Come on his touch said.

The drive to the hospital was silent, Scott knowing that he didn't want to talk, though Stiles secretly wished he'd try just so he wouldn't be stuck in his own personal hell, all the what if's crowding his brain, threatening to explode. What if he doesn't get better? What if he does? What if he gets worse? What if he dies? What if. What if. What fucking if. It was a constant cycle.

Stiles sighed gratefully when they arrived and jumped out the Jeep, running through the Beacon Hills Hospital doors. The receptionist looked up, recognition crossing her face, the face of a much smaller boy looking lost and confused in his father's arms cropping up in her mind, only the father wasn't with him. He was already here, in another room, suffering from a clogged artery. The receptionist felt sorry for him, so much despair was in his life.

"Melissa will be with you in a moment Stiles," The receptionist called to him.

Stiles nodded numbly and sat down on the bench in the lobby, Ms. McCall running down the hall to him.

"Scott's here," Stiles told her when she sat next to him.

Melissa's face scrunched in concern and confusion. That wasn't what she expected him to say first at all. Maybe to cry or to ask how his dad was or to just freak out, that she expected, that she could handle, this indifference wasn't.

"Stiles," She began, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, "You don't need to worry, it was just a mild thing, he's not going to die, he's not like your-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Stiles cut her off voice tightening, "Please..."

He didn't have to finish, the rest was implied, I don't want to think of her at a time like this.

Ms. McCall stopped and closed her mouth. So he wasn't indifferent just in shock.

"Ok, follow me, I'll take you to see him."

She got up and led him by the hand to the room where his father lay resting.

The medicinal smell seemed to get stronger as they got closer to his dad. Stiles wasn't sure if it was actually happening or just his mind playing tricks on him, but either way Stiles wasn't sure he'd be able to open the door when he got there. If he saw his dad there, unconscious, wires sticking out of him, beeping machines taking measurements, he just might be sick. How had his day ended up turning into such a nightmare?

They reached the door.

His heart pounded in his chest.

His breath hitched.

The door was opened.

The next moments seemed to go in slow motion. Stiles crossed the threshold, subconsciously pushing past Melissa, tears finally falling down his face as he saw his dad, his poor over worked, and tired dad, laying there, a tube in his chest, an IV in his arm. He was here because of him, he hadn't paid enough attention to his diet, he hadn't been a good enough son. All the lies where coming back to haunt him.

The conversation he had with his dad in the morning rang in his ears and he fell to his knees the weight of guilt finally settling on his shoulders.

"You're wrong dad," He whispered through his tears, "I'm not ready to take care of myself, I'm not strong enough, I need you…"

He sobbed and wiped his face, someone a gently touching his shoulder.

"Go away Melissa." He said weakly.

"I'm not Melissa," A deep voice resonated above him.

Stiles turned, "Derek." Melissa must've snuck on out while he was breaking down.

He felt the rest of his tears work their way to the front and he half ran jumped into his arms, not caring if anyone else was in the hallway. Not that there was anyone there anyway. Derek pulled him into his arms, and rubbed his back, laying his face in Stiles short cropped hair, almost a mirror image of the night before, only Stiles was now straddling Derek.

He cried and cried and cried, letting it all out, turning into a red eyed snotty mess. But he felt better after he did. Derek didn't say anything, just sat there rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head, letting him release all of his pent up emotions into his shoulder. Eventually his sobs stopped traveling through his whole body and returned to normal, Stiles pulling away slightly to look up at him.

"Sorry bout the shirt," He mumbled attempting a smile, it came out as a grimace.

"No problem, got plenty of the same ones at home."

Stiles scoffed, actually smiling this time, "That's for sure."

Then he reached up and kissed him, an arm wrapped gently around Derek's neck. Derek kissed him back, slow and deliberate, a smooth unforced thing, their lips moving lazily together in a synchronized motion. They broke apart and Stiles grinned, Derek hardly ever let them do PDA, he must be more depressed than he thought.

Someone coughed behind Derek, and Stiles smile vanished to be replaced by a look of horror.

"What?" Derek asked, all his attention on Stiles.

"It's Scott."


	5. What's In The Dark Comes To The Light

Scott paced the white linoleum tiled floor of Beacon Hill's Hospital, feeling restless and anxious. The lobby's florescent lights shone brilliantly above him giving off the illusion of sunlight and the walls retained a crisp spring clean white sheen that never seemed to dirty.

He had returned to the lobby after his mom caught him looking for Stiles thirty minutes prior, telling him, he needed time alone, and if you're a good friend you'd understand, and other bull that would just make him feel guilty. Well now he couldn't take it. He worried about his best friend, he worried about how he was fairing with no one there for him to cry on. He knew how he could get. Plus Scott couldn't stand the smell, the smell like death and bleach and fake lemons layering everything it touched. It was so strong he could barely distinguish a living human from a dead one and it almost completely washed away Stiles scent. All of this was just plain annoying.

Scott sat down, his knee bouncing uncontrollably, then, after less than a minute, stood back up. The receptionist gave him a look. Was this how Stiles felt all the time? All hyper and jumpy and un contained. Oh god, was he getting ADD too? Was he going to have to be on meds all day just so he kept from jumping out of his skin? Was that even possible? He'd have to ask Alliso-Stiles later. Allison still wanted nothing to do with him. Ok, that was it, he was going to find his friend.

"Where do you think your'e going Scott?" The reciptionist asked as he walked by.  
"To find Stiles, its been long enough."  
She sighed, "Room 306."  
He gave her one of his puppy dog smiles, now that saved him the trouble of trying to sniff him out, of course he didn't tell her that, "Thanks."

Scott walked down the halls turning corners subconsciously, knowing the hospital like the back of his hand until, finally, at the end of one hallway, he found the room Stiles was in with…Derek? Scott paused and scrunched his face, was he seeing things? That didn't seem possible considering he had werewolf vision…but…why would Derek Hale be here? Didn't the two of them like hate each other's guts? He'd thought so at least.

He walked a few steps closer, maybe the fumes where messing with his head, and took a more scrutinized look. Yep, it was definitely Derek and it looked like Stiles was on his lap…and…they were…kissing? Whoa, what? Kissing?

Scott did a double take, what the heck was going on? Finally he reached the door and stood there, watching with a mix of fascination and horror. Stiles and Derek? Derek and Stiles? OMG Derek Hale had corrupted his best friend. How long had this been going on? How'd he not smelled it on Stiles? Oh god he was freaking out, was he about to have a panic attack? That didn't seem likely but then again he did have one that one time when he thought Allison hated his guts…

The two broke away.

Scott coughed.

Stiles looked up.

Horror and realization pasted itself on his face.

Dead silence ensued.

Oh. My. God. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Stiles was freaking out. Big time. This was not how he had wanted Scott to find out about his and Derek's relationship. Not at all. Nope-ity nope nope. No way Jose, tondemonai, alcun modo, heck to the freaking nah. He had hoped that he could tell him nice and easy to his face on his own terms or maybe just maybe get away with not telling him at all, but noooo the world didn't do that. The world hated Stiles, the world just loved making his day worse and worse.

Stiles unfroze, and got off of Derek, Derek standing up beside him, one had laid comfortingly on his shoulder absentmindedly, the only thing from keeping from having a panic attack, "Shit."

Scott gulped, looking confused and maybe a little hurt. Why hadn't he told him? Did he not trust him? Did he think he'd hate him? Did he worry that he'd tell his dad? That's what Scott's face told him. Stiles had to look away

Stiles took a breath, "Uhm…could I say this is not what it looks like and have you believe me?"  
"No."  
"Could I say this is all just a dream and you're really asleep at home still?" Stiles expression was hopeful.  
"No."  
Stiles sighed, "Shit."  
"Tell me what's going on."

Stiles opened and closed his mouth making a fish face and looked from Derek to Scott and back again.

"Uhm well…," He stammered, "It's kinda complicated…and I'd really rather not…"

Scott crossed his arms, and put on his fiercest expression, granted it just made him look more adorable, but it hit Stiles like a kick in the gut. Scott was pissed, and Scott was never mad at him.

"Tell me. Now."

Derek stiffened beside Stiles, "I've got to go," He looked at Scott, "Your mom's coming."

He lightly squeezed his shoulder in a protective manner, "I'll check on you later."  
"I'm going to be at Scott's, I don't know if you can." Stiles said turning his attention to Derek for a moment.  
Derek grinned, "I'll see you later." Then he lightly kissed Stiles on the lips, his eyes locking with Scott's for a moment daring him to say something. He didn't. Derek smirked then left the room.

"We are going to talk about this later." Scott proclaimed pointing an accusatory finger at Stiles.  
He winced, "And people think I'm the mother."  
Scott made a face, "Shut up Stiles."

Stiles sat on Scott's bed, his textbooks strewn around him. Scott was downstairs playing video games, the sounds of gunfire wafting through the cracks of the door, just what his ADD brain needed to hear when trying to figure out complex algorithms, loud whooping and shouting. He was surprised Melissa hadn't told him to shut up yet, but he guessed she was used to it by now.

He looked at the page in front of him, his leg bouncing frantically, his face scrunched up in concentration…or, more accurately, like the act of trying to concentrate…which was nearly impossible, especially with his Aderall wearing off, his already innate dislike for math only adding to that… Aderall… Aderall… Penguins… Aderall… Why was he thinking about Aderall…and penguins? He shook his head, no, not penguins just Aderall.

His brow scrunched further and his eyes bounced around Scott's room, his gaze landing on his nightstand. Crap, he forgot to pick up his Aderall on his way to Scott's. He was gonna have a hell of a day tomorrow. His eyes kept bouncing around the room, focusing on anything that held remote interest to him. Superman posters, a pair of dirty underwear…tighty whiteys… Someone really needed to stop teasing him for his fashion sense, he at least wore boxers. A bag of half eaten Cheetos, old un-washed shirts, a box of condoms… Oooookay Stiles really needed to stop looking around, getting a littler to personal with his friend. Next thing he'd stumble on would be a dildo at this rate…though Scott claimed to be straight… Stiles snickered, ah mental tangents.

That's right…Calculus. He turned his attention back to his book, looked at the equation, looked at his pencil, and gave up, throwing them to the corner of the room. Fuck it. He just wasn't going to do it. He was a boy in mourning, his dad was in the hospital, he deserved a break. Fuck it, fuck math, fuck the world, fuck Ms. Lygus, fuck them all.

He stood up and started pacing, he needed something to do to get his mind off the track it was going down. It would only lead him to a panic attack, and he had been doing so well with avoiding that. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His dad was in the fucking hospital, and there was nothing he could fucking do about it, just like there was nothing he could fucking do to help in the pack because he was just the useless fragile human who was only good for fucking comic relief or being someone's chew toy. He slammed his head against Scott's wall and took a deep breath. He was not going to break down, he was not going to break down, he was not going to break down, he was not.

He hated how quickly his mood changed, just a moment before it seemed like he was just thinking about Scott's sex life and now he was thinking about how much of a worthless jerk he was. Ah the wonder's of having the attention span of a cucumber.

A knock on Scott's window made him jump. He turned, quickly wiping his eyes of tears he hadn't known had been falling and made his way over.

It was Derek.

Stiles smiled, his heart warming a little when he saw him. He had actually come to check on him. Guess he didn't care if Scott found him in his room for once.

Stiles took a breath to steady himself, he knew it didn't matter, Derek could already hear his erratic heart beat, but he also didn't want him to worry anymore, then opened the window, "Well hello my prince charming, should I let down my long flowing locks to your noble stead?" He run a hand through his buzzed hair as if he could swish it cheerleader style but his voice cracked midway through, effectively killing his sarcasm, leaving him grinning awkwardly at him.

Derek chuckled and handed him a bag, stepping into the room, "You probably want this."  
"Wha-," Stiles peeked inside, "Ah! My Aderall! You're a life saver," he pulled Derek by the shirt forcing his lips close to his own, and whispered seductively, "I could just kiss you right now."

"You know you could," He responded, voice sounding a little gravelly, "Totally free right now."

Stiles pulled away, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips, "Oh my god, did you just pull a Stiles? Omg you did. I'm totally rubbing off on you."  
"And you're smirking,"  
"What? I am?"  
"Yep."  
"Shit."

Stiles pulled Derek to Scott's bed.

"God it reeks in here," Derek said, nose cringing.  
"It's just Scott."  
"You're going to smell like him." Derek spat out the word him like an insult.  
"Jealous?" Stiles whispered kissing him on the cheek.  
"No."  
"Yes you are."  
"No, I'm not."  
"If you say so sour wolf."

Derek made a face, "Don't call me that."  
Stiles laughed, "Not happening, it's my pet name for you."  
"It's ugly."  
"It's cute, deal with it." Stiles said kissing his cheek.

Derek grumbled in resignation then pulled Stiles into a lip lock, "Fine, but you're mine, not Scott's."

"Didnt know there was any competition."

Derek's growled, deep and dangerous, his breath tickling Stiles face, sexy and protective and controlling. Stiles shivered at that, totally turned on, and kissed back more forcefully. Their hands traveled over each others bodies, they fell back on Scott's bed, Derek pulling Stiles below him. Stiles bit Derek's lip, Derek bit back, their mouths fighting for dominance, their tongues dancing in a violent dance.

Suddenly the door opened and Scott walked in. He scrunched up his nose, "Dude, why does it smell like sex in here? Where you jackin- Oh!"

Derek and Stiles pulled apart, Stiles lip bleeding slightly.

"Well…hi there Scott, kinda forgot you where here." Stiles wiped his mouth on his sleeve.  
"What the fuck is he doing in here?"  
Stiles held up the bag Derek gave him and shook it lightly, "My a meds, forgot em."  
"That's not what it looked like when I walked in, god where you two going to end up having sex if I hadn't walked in?"  
Stiles considered the question for a moment, "Hmmm….in all likely hood, probably."  
Scott groaned, "Get out Derek."

Derek looked at Stiles then Scott, an awkward expression plastered on his face. Stiles tapped him on the arm lightly, it looked to Scott like he didn't even realize he'd done it.

"Just go Derek, I'll be fine, we don't need Scott's mom walking in here."

Derek nodded and slipped out the window. Scott walked over and closed it after him.

"He does that a lot doesn't he."  
"Yeah pretty much every night, I've developed a tendency to wake up screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares." Stiles clamped a hand over his mouth. He should not have said that. He never hoped for Scott's slightly average intelligence not to pick up on something more than now.

"Wait what? Nightmares? How long has this been going on?" Scott exclaimed all thoughts of Derek and Stiles forgotten.

"Shit."

"Shit's right, now answer the question."  
"Since like…spring break, after Gerard kidnapped me."  
"So…like PTSD?"  
"You actually know what that is?" Stiles asked surprised.  
He gave him a duh look, "My mom's a nurse, you aught to give me more credit, she comes across a lot of diff people."

He didn't say, what he was thinking though, I'm not as dumb as you think I am. Stiles looked away guiltily and sighed, he deserved at least some of the truth.

"I don't know, maybe it is maybe it's something else, but all I know is Derek's been there every night to drag me out of my hell."

Now it was Scott's turn to turn away.

"Sorry."  
"For what?"  
"Not realizing you where in pain, not being a good friend."

Stiles walked over to him, and gave him one of his intoxicating grins, "You are a good friend, you're here for me now, when Derek cant be."

Scott ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "I'm going to have to excpet this huh."  
"Yep."  
"Fine, I won't tell your dad if you don't want me to, or my mom, but don't think I actually approve of this."  
Stiles smile broadened, "Thanks."  
"Whatever, lets get some sleep."

Stiles nodded and the two of them got ready for the night. Scott turned off the lights and crawled into his sleeping bag, giving Stiles the bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Stiles sighed smiling to himself and closed his eyes sleep soon overtaking him.

That's when the nightmares returned.


	6. Paranormal Nightmares, Ordinary Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so in the dream segment everything's Italicized...i hope lol and so for the thoughts i made them normal font instead of italics cause....you know thoughts cant be italicized when its already in italics? lol

_Stiles was falling…and it was unlike any sensation he'd ever felt before._

_To be truly falling, to have no control over his body. To be unable to stop, to not know where he was._

_To have no will._

_All he had was the inevitable truth that he would eventually hit the ground…and that when he did it would be really unpleasant. Like having to tread water for two hours while holding a two hundred pound werewolf while trying to avoid a psychotic snake thing with no way to call for help unpleasant…though in hindsight that wasn't all bad considering the werewolf had been Derek but…_

_Wow even in dreams Stiles was ADD, that was new._

_He fell, struggling to use his limbs, struggling to scream, but even that simple freedom had been robbed from him._

_Please tell my dad I love him, Stiles thought, though to whom that was directed to only God knew…there was a God wasn't there? Stiles would like to think so if a place like this existed. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate hoping the end would be swift and painless. The only problem was…_

_It never came._

_Instead, suddenly, he was flying, long bat like wings sprouting from his back, and the boiling air streamed in his face. It was only then he realized where he was, recognizing the spires, the thousand degree temperature, the oozing pits of black blood. He looked up, the sky was a deep crimson red. He gulped._

_He was back in his own personal Hell._

_He touched ground and his wings disappeared, painfully folding back inside of him, the bones rearranging to accommodate the foreign entity. He winced and shrugged his shoulders, trying to massage the new ache and looked around. For some reason he was guarded, jumpy, and anxious…which pretty much described Stiles on a daily basis, but it felt wrong, like in this form he was forever confident…_

_Fearless._

_He took a few a steps forward and stopped as voices wafted over to him. Stiles stopped, they were coming towards him. He quickly scanned his surroundings and jumped behind a spire just as two figures came into view._

_"Are you ready?" The first asked._

_"Of course," The second voice, vaguely familiar, responded in a gruff manner, "I already promised my soul in exchange for immortality."_

_"That's only if you successfully free him and his minions into the second layer."_

_Stiles frowned, what where they talking about? Second layer? Immortality in exchange for a soul? He really was in hell._

It's a state of reality, the one all of your kind inhabit _Stiles jumped startled by the third voice that spoke in his head. The same one from his last dream._

Oh it's you again, He thought back, Anything else I should know about, like I don't know, maybe how the hell I got here in the first place?!

You shouldn't use the name of Hell in vain, especially considering we're in his domain. _The voice spat back._

Whose domain? The devils? Cause if so I'd really like it if you let me go back to my bed and sleep normally for once _. Stiles shot back._

Shut up Stiles, this is important.

Really? Is this shut up Stiles day or something? You're like the third to tell me that.

_The voice remained silent._

_"Fine, ready the portal." The Gruff voice commanded the first._

_"Yes Master." The second voice hissed. Stiles shivered thinking of the Kanima._

_The first voice slithered into view._

_Stiles suppressed a scream._

_The thing that was in front of him, made the Kanima look like a pikachu plushie in comparison._

The fuck is that?! _Stiles thought frantically to the little visitor in his head. It looks like Ugly Betsy on steroids' and the Kanima had a baby!_

 _The voice chuckled before responding,_ That, Stiles, is a Demon.

Way to state the obvious smart ass.

Don't ask if you already have the answer.

Oh shut up only I can be witty and sarcastic.

 _The first voice began to chant, the words_ flo _wing off its serpentine tongue with a strange lull, pitches going up and down, a dangerous, yet strangely hypnotic sound._

Cough, Cough Mr. Voice, what's it saying? _Stiles inquired._

A bunch of boring things your ADD mind will zone out on in a minute.

Hey! I take offense to that! I will not zone out that fast, _Stiles crossed his arms subconsciously in irritation._

 _R_ eally? Well then let's see: 'Gate of the Sun I close thee, Gate of the Moon I open thee, Gate of the Earth I harness thee Gate-'

Ok! Ok! I get it! Really boring shit!

_Stiles felt the voice snicker._

Oh shut up! So you were right! Big whoop.

_Stiles felt the Voice leave again and Stiles turned his attention back to the scene in front of him. By this time a small sliver of an opening was forming in front of the Snake Demon, a pitch black line rippling in front of it, widening steadily as the Serpents voice crescendoed higher and higher until, with a stomach lurching boom, it flew open, a twenty foot doorway springing in front of them._

_The Serpent stopped chanting and surveyed its work, panting slightly, before turning back to its Master._

_"It's ready."_

_"Good."_

_The first voice walked forward; Stiles felt his heart skip a beat and his blood rush from his face._

_"Gerard." He whispered._

_Gerard turned around, his eyes instantly locking on Stiles, a slow sadistic smile curling his lips. He looked younger, some of his wrinkles had vanished, his form skinnier, his pallor more life like. What the hell had happened to him?_

_"You."_

_"Me," Stiles shifted awkwardly where he was, "How's that bite feeling? Still spewing black stuff?"_

_Gerard just smiled, "Oh how I hate smart alecks. Pythep…kill him."_

_The demon nodded and turned to Stiles, its tongue flicking in and out menacingly. Gerard looked away and began to enter the doorway. Stiles knew he should stop him but what could he do? He had no enhanced senses, he was just the fragile human._

_Oh that's right._

_He could run._

_And run he did._

_The demon pounced on him. Its teeth glistened in front of him, its long fangs dripping venom, its expression gleeful. Stiles felt fear grip him, he was going to die, legit this time. The demon arched its neck, its gold eye shining dangerously, then it struck, leaving Stiles with only pain and darkness._

Stiles shot up from the bed, his hand instantly rushing to his still aching neck, pulse racing, a scream barely contained in his mouth. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream, his hyper active mind repeated over and over again to itself. Oh Derek, why couldn't you be here now?

He didn't think it was possible but at some point he must've fallen asleep again, cause the next thing he knew the sun was out and Scott's room was empty of well…Scott. Stiles sat up and looked around groggily, Scott and Mellisa must've decided to let him stay in today.

He sighed and took his Aderall, getting out of bed as he did so. He walked over to Scott's bathroom and quickly showered, happy to let the hot water wash away his troubles momentarily, then got dressed, checking his phone as he pulled on his pants. Three missed calls from Derek.

Stiles grinned, the poor sour wolf was worried about him, and flipped open his phone to call back. Derek picked up on the second ring.

"Hello? Are you feeling okay?" He sounded out of breath.

"Hi…are you…panting?" Stiles asked scrunching his brow.

"I'm working out."

"Oh?"

"Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Alive," Stiles replied simply, "Look uhm I'm not going to school today sooooo…we could hang out?"

Stiles winced as he said that. Hang out? Who still says that? Way to sound mature and totally not like the teenage spastic you are Stilinski.

God he sounded like a desperate girl, craving attention…well…he guessed that was fairly accurate…he was desperate and he was craving attention…and he definetly was the girl in this relationship whether he liked it or not, which he fortunately did or things might of ended up a whole lot differently…it's a good thing Stiles was kinkier than he thought he was and omg there goes his mind again.

Curse male teenage hormones.

Derek was silent for a moment and Stiles bit his lip nervously.

"Calm down Stiles, I'll pick you up in thirty."

Then he hung up.

"Heck to the fucking yes bitches, I got a date with Derek Hale." Stiles whooped punching the air.

Well…he guessed it was a date…he was going to get picked up…oh god…was it a date? It was wasn't it? What if it wasn't? Or better yet…what if it was? Oh god, oh god oh god oh god, he was gonna screw this up wasn't he, and totally make Derek regret making out with the hyperactive ADD kid that was totally in love with him.

Ah shit.

He was screwed.


	7. Operation Reclaim Stiles Favor (O.R.S.F)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITALACIZING EVERYTHING IS A DRAG....so if u want to read it in it's full glory check it out on FF.net :3 here ~  
> http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8622391/7/Hell-is-Nothing-In-Your-Arms http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8622391/1/Hell-is-Nothing-In-Your-Arms

Derek

The car was silent. Almost awkwardly so. Well it probably would be awkward if it was anyone but Derek trying to figure it out, but Derek being the not so great emotional reader he was (despite the whole I can smell when you're angry thing), was all to oblivious to it. He glanced at the boy next to him who was currently looking out the window and twisting the bottom of his shirt…nervously?…Absentmindedly? It was hard to tell, the two kind of blended into one with Stiles, hell Derek would probably be more freaked out if his heart beat was anything less than erratic. Stiles sighed and started biting his nails. Derek scowled, okay that was a decidedly nervous/ worry gesture, but why would he be worried? It's not like he'd never been in Derek's camaro before, they already got the whole do not eat in my baby rule down pat, and it's not like the two of them hadn't been alone together before, so what was it? Derek's scowl deepened.

His dad.

Of course it would be his dad.

Why else would he be worried?

Yes that was definitely the reason, he was worried about his dad, who was currently stuck in the hospital recuperating from his mild heart attack. Any loving child would be worried about that. Derek cleared his throat.

"What's wrong?" He asked for lack of a better question, his voice harsh and gruff; he internally winced at his tone, that was not how it was supposed to come out. He really was bad at the whole boyfriend thing, though considering his only other love interest had been psycho bitch Kate Argent…could you really blame him?

Stiles flailed in surprise, jumping slightly in his seat, his hand successfully almost getting them killed by smacking Derek in the face, who somehow miraculously did not end up swerving into another lane and making a wonderful kaboom that would have been the end of them both. Derek shot Stiles a look, a low growl in his throat. Not the sexy kind, but the God I want to rip your throat out kind.

Stiles looked up at Derek in surprise and guilty horror,"Sorry! Oh gosh, sorry wow, I almost killed us. .Ha. That's…great, score one for Stiles yeaaah…" His voice dropped at the end of his sentence and he cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat before continuing, "I'm fine, peachy, great, totally fine," He nodded as if to reassure himself it was true, "definitely not freaking out cause…I'm here…with you…alone…in the camaro…annnnd my mouth is running on its own again. Okay…shutting up…now…"

He paused, "Yeeep….shutting up…quiet mouth…quit talking…okay…okay…shutting up officially…now."

Stiles took a breath and looked at Derek a slightly strained smile plastered on his face, "Yep, totally fine."

Derek nodded after a moment and turned his gaze back to the road, the car lapsing into silence.

"Sooooo…where're we goin?" Stiles asked after a few minutes of companionable silence, his verbal diarrhea back under his control.

Derek said nothing opting to grunt instead of using words, his eyes fixed on the road. He honestly had no idea where they were going, but of course Stiles didn't need to know that. Did it really matter? He could take a surprise couldn't he? He just had to sit there and go with it. Simple right?

Wrong.

Stiles hated surprises, surprises held nothing but bad memories for him. Surprises had become the epitome of evil ever since his life had cascaded out of control and become a real time MMORPG complete with heroes, psychotic villains, and an ancient book full of mystical creatures, which under less threatening circumstances would be cool, had been cool, but one too many encounters with creepy uncles wanting to give him the "gift" of werewolfism(is that a word?)…who he might add should be dead, and with creepy snake Kanima's that wanted to paralyze and rip his head off, kinda turned him off to the whole "surprises" thing. So no, surprises weren't good. Nope. Nada. Do not do it.

"Oh come on you know you wanna tell me," Stiles nudged him good naturedly with his elbow, "Huh huh? You know you wanna."

Derek didn't dignify that with an answer.

"Fine, then sourpuss, don't tell me and you'll force me to use my feminine powers of persuasion on you." Stiles paused opening one eye to peek over at Derek who remained as stoic as ever.

"Cause we both know I'm the girl in this relationship…my ass can testify to that, and we both know woman hold all the power whenever a man is involved."

Derek scoffed, "What power? You've got as much fight as a toothpick."

Stiles gasped, pulling a hand up to his mouth in mock horror, "Derek! How could you say such a thing? And I'll have you know a toothpick can fight, a toothpick can put you're eye out so there."

Derek resisted the urge to smile, forcing the muscles in his mouth to stay put, making his mouth do this ridiculous twitching thing that made him look pained and constipated. Way to try and uphold his image.

"Still not going to tell me? Fine, you leave me no choice, no sex for you," Stiles nodded, "Yep that's right you're officially regulated to second base privileges only. My ass needs a break anyway, I refuse to be in a diaper for the rest of my life by the time I'm twenty." Stiles mumbled the last part of his sentence and if it wasn't for Derek's werewolf hearing he wouldn't have caught it and have snickered against his better judgement. No, not snicker, Derek Hale did not snicker, he was much to mature for that, he smirked.

"I'm serious you know," Stiles said crossing his arms, "These legs are locked up tight, not even a diamond cutter could open up these puppies right now."

Derek just looked at him with a, really Stiles? You're even more hormonal than I was when I was your age, how are you going to last without sex look, obviously not believing him.

"Don't make me take away kissing privileges too," Stiles warned turning away from him and back to the window, biting his lip lightly and messing with the hem of his sweater again.

Derek gulped, his mouth going dry when he saw the motion. Oh how he wanted to just stop the car and push him against the door and have his way with him, to feel those soft lips against his own, to run his hand through Stiles buzzed hair, to feel him pull him closer to him…Stiles couldn't have been serious about the no kissing…could he? He couldn't possibly be, right? Derek tore his eyes away from his lover, glad that Stiles couldn't smell his arousal and resisted the urge to smack his head against the steering wheel repeatedly. Oh the effect Stiles had on him.

The pair continued in silence, Derek scanning the street for something that might earn him brownie points with Stiles and glanced at the clock in the car. It was twelve o'clock. Noon. Okay…so he'd get him food, yeah that would probably work, when was Stiles not willing to eat? He nodded to himself glad to have the first step in as he will now call his, Operation Regain Stiles Favor plan. Oh lord, did he really just think that? He did didn't he. Crap, that goofy kid was rubbing off on him.

"You hungry?" Derek asked as he drove into the parking lot of café, breaking the silence.

Stiles looked at him, "Derek, you must not know me, how could you possibly have to ask?" He grinned, "Of course I'm hungry FEED ME!"

"Is here okay?" He inquired gesturing to the café they were now parked in front of.

"Eros Greek Café, hmmm?" Stiles raised an eyebrow, " I hope you know that just because you take me to a cute little café named after the goddess of love, whose name just happens to be the root of erotic, does not mean I'm going to reinstate your butt sex privileges, cause if that's what you're trying to do it's not going to work, kay?"

Derek had not been aware of that, but he counted the fact that Stiles had grinned at him a positive sign sooo….one point for Derek, so far O.R.S.F seemed to be working…now he just needed to figure out the second step. He grimaced, he'd figure that out later…in the mean time…

"Lets eat!" Stiles exclaimed getting out the car, letting out a hoot of delight and walking through the doors of Eros.

/!?/!?/!?/V/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/

"Stiles slow down, you're going to choke."

"No I'm not, I'm a master deep throater remember?" Stiles wiggled his eyebrows comically and laughed.

Derek sputtered, choking on his drink which only made the boy next to him laugh harder. Oh laugh Stiles, laugh at my pain, glad it amuses you, Derek thought as he glared at the hyper active teen, who had proceeded in taking another gargantuan bite out of his pita sandwich, clearly un-deterred by his gaze.

"Oh, Derek, this is sooooo goood, its soooo thick and juicy and meaty, I could eat it all day long," Stiles popped a fry in his mouth and drizzled in a bit of the white yogurt sauce, purposely letting a little bit spill out of the corners of his mouth. He licked his lips, seductively,"Delicious."

Derek, sputtered again, managing not to choke this time, and glared at Stiles some more, pouring as much venom and warning as he could into it.

"I think you're done," He said matter of factly, not leaving any room for argument and grabbed Stiles wrist, yanking him from the table ignoring his protests of, I'll be a good boy, and I wasn't done with that yet. Derek paid for the food and tipped the waiter and with his vice grip still around Stiles wrist he walked out the café.

/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/

Stiles crossed his arms and glared at the older boy next to him, one that was a poor imitation of Derek's that just looked funny on him, "Just so you know you lost all points from feeding me."

Derek smirked not exactly caring, he'll just think of something better than food.

"I'm serious you're never going to have sex again, you know why I'll tell you why, it's 'cause you're not even at zero anymore, no you're in negative digits, so far gone that even if you used a rocket to go at warp speed for five years you'd have only moved an inch. Hope you still have Lefty and Righty's number you're going to need to get re-aquatinted cause at this rate you'll never have sex again. Nopity, nope, nada." Stiles took a breath and stopped his tangent there, proud of his self control.

And now would be a good time to do that Derek realized. Yep, definitely time to think up part two of his master Operation Regain Stiles Favor plan. Just needed to think of some things that Stiles liked. Simple. Easy. Like taking candy from a baby. Er…what did he like? Right, he should know this, he's his boyfriend so…uhm…comics…yeah comics that was a big one…and uh…videogames, yep that one was for sure important…considering Stiles was wearing his Halo4 graphic tee…that was definitely an indicator…and er food…but he already did that so he could cross that off the activity list, and sex…everyone liked sex, but that's what he's trying to regain soooooo, that one's off the table too and…uhm…and…plushies.

Derek smirked at the thought. Yes, plushies, soft, cute little animals convered in fur, that Stiles oh so loved, yet oh so hated to admit. He had found Stiles secret stash in his closest one time when he was setting out a not so horrendous outfit for him…speaking of which he really needed to take Stiles shopping…he had absolutely no sense of color coordination. Yep…he was going to get him a plushy, he couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out that he knows.

"We're going to the mall," Derek said eyes fixed on the road, "Gotta get some stuff for the house."

It was true, but of course he had his ulterior motive at play.

Stiles raised an eyebrow, "The burned out shell of a house that can barely be considered liveable?"

"Yes."

"The one you abandoned for a rundown bus in the middle of a warehouse when my dad had wanted to arrest you?"

Derek winced, not wanting to remember that and growled, "Yes."

Stiles tapped his finger on the dash board, "What is with you and rundown buildings, is it some sort of reverse coping mechanism?" He wondered aloud.

Derek didn't feel the need to answer that, he'd leave Dr. Phil Jr. to his own devices while uncovering the secrets of his psychosis.

With that the car lapsed back into silence, Stiles looking noticeably less uncomfortable, relaxing into the seat more, letting his gangly frame slouch into the car, his legs stretched out as far as they could go. He waited for Stiles to speak again, one minute turned to two, then three, then four, Derek turned on the radio, Stiles hummed along to the music, it was nice, totally stress free, totally relaxed and Derek felt…okay with that. For once in his life he was okay to just sit and do nothing with someone else.

"You really like to keep conversations brief, huh?"

"Yes."

"Is that all you can say? 'Yes?'"

Derek shot him a look, "No."

"Oooo, the big bad wolf learned a new word, congrats," Stiles said moving his hands in an almost jazzy way.

"Stiles-" He began.

"Shut up?" Stiles finished.

Derek looked at him for a moment a really was that necessary Stiles face on, and smacked him lightly on the head, "Yes."

"Ow, was that necessary?" Stiles demanded rubbing his head lightly

Derek smirked, "Yep."

"You're an ass."

Stiles

"Get the red dammit, you have enough black already, you wear black, your car's black, your house is fucking charred, get the red." Stiles pursed his lips and crossed an arm over his chest waving the red drapes in front of him. Derek was being difficult, ignoring all his suggestions, the neon green lava lamp, the hot pink desk, the sky blue couch, they were all super cool, but noooo, he just refused to have it, who cares about color coordination, Stiles doesn't, what's cool is cool, why mess with a good thing?

Derek began to place the black drapes inside his cart, along with the black lamp, the dark almost black navy blue build it yourself book case, a couple of black bar stool chairs, and lots and lots of new flooring. How he'd managed to get all of this to fit in the tiny cart was beyond Stiles, apparently Derek was secretly totally OCD and…Oh! He is not going to ignore him again.

"Get the fucking red Derek," Stiles growled shoving past him and placing the red drapes in the cart before Derek could put in the black. Score for Stiles! "Besides it'll match your eyes sourpuss."

Derek's eyes flashed red.

"See my point exactly."

Derek sighed and rubbed his temples and placed the black drapes in the cart. Stiles would've complained but he made no move to take out the red so he, with his utmost will, did not say a thing.

Like he said, why mess with a good thing?

/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/!?/

Stiles couldn't believe his eyes. In front of him, beside him, all around him were…plushies. Like a shit load. Like more than he'd ever seen in his life. Like heaven on earth. Stiles could barely contain his excitement as he ran through the aisles like a little kid, picking up small ones, little ones, medium ones, soft ones hard ones, light up ones, plain ones, omg just so many. Stiles was going to die, he really was, it was too much cuteness, how could he survive with all the cute around him? Stiles was about to turn around and leave while he still retained at least some of his sanity but then he saw it.

The perfect plushy.

The epitome of beauty.

The climax of cute.

If this had been sex, he would've came right there. He really would've. He wasn't sure he hadn't already…he supposed he could ask Derek later.

"Oh. My. God." He approached the plushy with an almost religious reverence, it seemed to glow with an internal light, its holiness shining out through the very tips of its raven black fur.

Stiles picked it up and stared. Oh how he wanted to keep it…but he had no money and when he looked at the price tag…HOLY SHIT THAT WAS EXPENSIVE. Way to break a child's dream inflation…or maybe it was just the fact that it had been made totally by hand. He sighed dejectedly and set it gently back down on its pedestal where it belonged, he could almost believe he saw it frown at him with its beady eyes, pleeing with him, take me, take me, take me.

"Do you want it?" Derek asked, suddenly coming up behind him.

"Shi-Yes, b-but it's freaking expensive."

Derek picked up the black wolf and looked at the price tag, then looked at Stiles, then walked away back to the front of the store, wolf in hand.

"H-hey wait up, you're not seriously about to buy it are you? I can totally go without it-"

"Here," Derek shoved a bag in his face.

"Derek I-"

"No refunds," The clerk said filing her nails and smirking at them wickedly, like she knew something they didn't. It reminded him a lot of Lydia.

Stiles shot him a look and slowly took the bag from him, a huge grin spreading on his face, "Thanks." He said beaming up at him.

Derek scratched the top of his head, "It was nothing."

Stiles scoffed, "Oh it was something, did you see the price tag?"

"Oh I saw the price tag, but uhm," Derek started turning red, then continued stiffly, "If it makes you happy," his voice dropped down to almost nothing, "then I'm happy."

Stiles moved closer to him, and whispered, "Oh, he does have a heart." He glanced back down at the wolf in his hand and nuzzled the top of its head quickly before looking back up at him, saying, "He really is perfect you know."

Then he kissed him, their lips pressed together gently, chastely, lovingly, Stiles' wolf pressed between them, Derek's arms wrapped around Stiles waist, pressing him closer, Stiles arms wrapped around his neck pulling at his hair. Finally, Stiles broke away and said grinning into Derek's lips, "Hmm, I guess I need to re-instate your third base privileges…" Then he remembered, where they were…and the clerk right next to them and pulled away from Derek completely, quickly detangling himself from the other

"Oh…sorry," He said turning beet red, bringing up his wolf to cover his face.

"Mmm, whatever, happens all the time, you all bought something make out all you want," She said not looking up and filing her nails, "Most action I get all day."

"Okay well uhm…we should be going," Stiles said, totally embarrassed and hurried out of the store, Derek following closely, the clerk telling them to come again soon.

"Where to know?" Derek asked him an almost child like grin on his face.

"The hospital, it's time to see my dad."

Derek sobered quickly and nodded squeezing his shoulder gently.

"It'll be fine."

"I know," He grinned up at him, "I've got Sourwolf to protect me."

"Really? You named it Sourwolf?"

"Yes, he reminds me of you…it's why he's perfect," Stiles blushed and moved in closer to Derek.

Derek had to fight off another goofy grin, Operation Reclaim Stiles Favor was more a success than he could've hoped and if he thought he was perfect…well then…in that case, name that wolf whatever you want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N PT 2 ok so for compensation for this being so late, if theirs a certain part of their date you'd want elaborated from the others perspective like the Eros Cafe, or more of the shopping lemmee know :3 Please review and all that jazz and yeah thanks to those who have reviewed and PM'd me :3 THIS IS FOR YOU ALL! Sorry if there were any spelling/grammar errors i just REALLY needed to get this up so bear with me ^^'


	8. Arma morte ad vitam æternam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END PT I (Chap title translates to To Arms, To Death, To Life Eternal...just in case you wondered)  
> Fanfiction Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8622391/8/Hell-is-Nothing-In-Your-Arms

"Here! Stop! Stop here!" Stiles exclaimed suddenly pounding on the dashboard of Derek's camaro.

Derek stopped, and pulled over, wincing slightly at Stiles sudden volume. Darn werewolf hearing. He shifted into park in one fluid motion, then turned to look at Stiles. They were a couple blocks away from the hospital.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Stiles nuzzled the top of his wolf, his mouth hidden under its fur, "Pssh, you shouldn't be worried bout me I'll be totall-oh look is that a monarch butterfly? Totally thought those where all gone by now…Wait…What was I talking about?"

Derek shot him a look, "That's a no then."

"What's a no?"

"Are you going to be-"

"I'm fine."

"I don't believe you."

"Well you don't hear a lie do you?"

Derek made a face, "No, bu-"

"Then stop worrying, I'll talk to you later," Stiles pushed open the camaro's door and stepped out, giving Derek a quick kiss before doing so, "Love ya sour wolf." He said playfully, "I'll probably be at Scott's again, just a warning."

Derek nodded in response and reached over to close the door, a forced nonchalant smile plastered on Stiles face. He knew he wasn't okay, but there was nothing for him to do right now, just wait until Stiles needed him again.

Stiles smile faded as he watched Derek drive away, nerves finally taking root inside of him, questions bubbling to the surface he'd managed to keep under wraps all day (omg amazing right?). Was his dad all right? Will he be awake? Can I go home today? What if something got infected? What will I do if he dies? He knew he was over reacting, knew that it wasn't as bad as it seemed, and he knew that working himself into a fit wasn't going to help him any. He should stay calm, put on a smile, walk in, joke, be his classic witty sarcastic self, and he would…but as he walked towards the building wolf in hand, he allowed himself these moments to let his true feelings free.

He paused at the entrance, heart pounding, knowing how ridiculous he looked, lone teenager standing right outside probably looking ready to have a panic attack…which he was…automatic doors sliding open and closed and breathing deeply holding Sourwolf close to his chest, eyes just slightly wider than normal. Where were the thoughts of penguins when he needed them? Where were the distractions? Why is it he only seemed to truly focus when something bad was happening.

He finally regained his nerves…kind of…and stepped into the building, the receptionist, just glancing up and waving him on as he walked by.

He must have been in shock yesterday. Yep definitely. Why else would everything be hitting him so hard now? Well whatever. It didn't matter. Shock was for losers, anxiety for wimps, he was tougher than all that, he was dating a freaking werewolf for peats sake. He's be head to head with a Kanima (sure both times he'd ended up paralyzed from the neck down), gotten beaten up by an old man (granted not a very flattering moment but still), had to deal with Scott wanting to rip his throat out every full moon for like two months(you'd really think metal chains were more effective). He could take a little heart attack, even if it was from the only other living relative he knew about. Pssh no problem. Totally whatever. Absolutely miniscule. Don't you just love big words?

Yay! Go distractions!

He took a breath.

Yeah, no problem, he could do this.

Stiles paused outside his dad's door, then with shaking hands walked in.

XoXoXo

Silence. That what was so strange about his surroundings. The absolute quiet. Fabian shivered, forests weren't ever supposed to be this silent.

He crept on, his light footsteps sounding like thunderclaps on the leaves and needles, through the forest that now was holding its breath. It's quiet a silent declaration of its fear…and it's hope. A silent vigil towards its savior. Fabian brushed the hair and sweat off his brow, stopping when he reached a clearing on a cliff top.

It was here.

This was the entry point.

He stood and waited, his senses tuned for the slightest shift in power. A sign that the gate would open. A cool breeze rustled through the trees and ruffled his hair. He turned slightly.

They had arrived.

The sky ripped open with a terrifying crack. The ground shook. Lightning streaked through the sky. A pillar of fire erupted from the hole. Fabian gasped, falling to his knees, watching in horror as the life was drained from everything around him. Blades of grass crumbled to nothing, trees fell to dust. The air was ripped from his lungs. He felt empty, scared even, until he remembered what he now was, a sad smile crossing his lips. He didn't need to breath. He didn't need anything at all anymore, nothing but dreams and blood.

The gateway closed, and Fabian got to his feet, dusting his pants off as he did so, lazily looking up at the two figures before him.

"Gerard."

The man smiled wickedly, "Fabian."

"You're looking mighty young today," Fabian drawled, "Killed some innocent passerby recently?"

"Oh you know me, can't resist the urge to drain the life out of people."

"And here I thought he had some semblance of the hunter you used to be."

Gerard scoffed, "Those days are long gone, only my life matters…I will do anything to get what I want."

Fabian clapped his hands and began walking forward, "Well enough of the idle chit chat, I think you and I both know I cant let you stay in this layer."

Gerard laughed, shrill and insane, his blonde hair shining innocently, a sharp contrast to his demonic expression, "You have as much right here as I do, care to join me back in hell?"

Fabian stopped in his tracks stiffening, "I'm not like you."

Gerard just smiled a knowing smile, the kind of smile that said, I know all your secrets, you can't hide from me, "But you are, poor little demon, poor fallen angel, bound to hell, banned from heaven. Are you not unlike Abbadon?"

"Don't lump me with his kind, I will regain my post, I will see those golden streets again, hear those bells, heed His call, I will not be denied access to paradise."

"But you have been, that's why you are what you are now, Incubus."

Fabian flinched as if he were slapped. Gerard was getting under his skin, and that was something he couldn't let him do, he had to retain his seraphic identity, he couldn't give into the demonic rage that was bubbling inside of him, waiting for him to slip up, waiting for him to accept his fate as a demon.

Fabian took a deep breathe, quelling the beast within himself…for now, and steeled his eyes,"No."

Gerard paused and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time, reading into his sudden mood shift, years of werewolf hunting letting him read the young immortals emotions easily.

"I see," He turned slightly, "Pythep…deal with him, I have other business to attend too."

"Oh no you don't," Fabian said lunging at Gerard, yanking a dagger from its's sheath on his side, brandishing it in front of him menacingly.

Gerard merely grinned and raised his hand, the blade stopping in the air as if caught in an invisible wall.

"Now, now Fabian, don't you know better than to stab innocent civilians?"

Fabian scoffed and tried to dislodge his dagger from the invisible web that Gerard had willed into being, "You're no civilian and you're definitely not innocent."

"Why Fabian, I'm offended, if I didn't know any better I'd think you didn't like me," He pouted, amusement written all over his face, deadly determination speaking through his eyes. He was going to destroy the pesky immortal now before he had a chance to interfere further.

"Well…goodbye…Fabian."

Gerard closed his fist.

Pain erupted in every pore of his being.

And with that his world went dark.

XoXoXoX

Stiles dad was awake when he walked through the doors, which was…a relief to say the least, he almost felt the need to thank the heavens for keeping him alright, but no, he didn't do that…wouldn't do that…what heaven would take his dear mother from him so early in life? No heaven would.

Just a Hell.

Stiles shook his head and plastered another fake smile on his face, pushing his dark thoughts deep into the crevices of his mind…hopefully far enough away that his ADHD wouldn't find them later. No heaven was taking his father from him today.

"Hey dad, how ya feeling?" He asked siting down on one of the exceedingly uncomfortable hospital chairs, like seriously were they made to make you have to switch positions every three seconds…well in Stiles case more like .5nanoseconds, three seconds of stationary being was actually quite an accomplishment for him…well that and not making an utter fool out of himself, or scoring points in a lacrosse game…or actually being able to play in a game…or actually just still being alive at the moment considering his hellish supernatural turn his life was taking. Wow…everything had to back to Heaven and Hell didn't it? Was this contemplate the possibility of a supreme being day? If so…it was probably true wasn't it? Like if werewolves existed, God would too right? He really needed to have a word with him, mother stealing was definitely not o-

"-iles…STILES!" His dad called out to his son, yanking him out of his oh so deep and philosophical thoughts…how dare he right?

Stiles jumped and repositioned himself on the chair for probably the twentieth time in the past thirty seconds, "Huh what? Penguins?!"

Really? Penguins? Again? Totally thought he'd crossed that road, climbed that mountain, sailed that sea (Yay! Go alterations!), mowed that lawn…is that even a saying…whatever…he'd figure it out later, drained that soda, ate that candy bar, kissed that werewo-

Okay, Stiles…too far.

Focus.

Just a five letter word.

He's made bigger.

He can totally do this.

All he had to do was look up into his father's eyes.

Ignore all sounds around him.

Ignore all thoughts in his head.

Ignore any unpleasant smells.

And talk….

And listen.

But mainly talk…

Cause he's good at that…

And resear-

No! Focusing! Yes Focusing is good! Be good Stiles! Pay attention!

He looked up into his father's eyes, "Ahem…what?"

"You didn't hear a word I just said huh?"

"Pssh…what are you talking about…I totally did…I like that…that, thing…too…yeah… no, I've got no clue where this conversation had been going."

"I'd said I was feeling fine."

"Oh! Well that's…good…cause…being good is good…you know? Good…yeah…"

Oh yes,

score one for Stilinski family awkwardness, just like the good old days…like…yesterday…minus the fact his dad had a heart attack, that was kinda a bummer.

"You know I'm never letting you eat bacon again right?" Stiles said pointing an accusatory finger at his father, "I know that's what did this…and maybe those curly fries from the night before…you know what, no more grease for you, I'm not gonna have you die at the ripe age of forty five. No siree bob, it's salad and lean meat for you."

"Stiles-"

"Nope."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Salad dad, salad forever."

"Stiles-"

"Do not argue this with me, you will not win. I'll have the whole sheriff department on my side after this fiasco."

Mr. Stilinski sighed and looked for something else to talk about, his eyes finally resting on the black wolf in Stiles arms.

"Is that for me?"

"What?"

"The wolf?"

"NO!" Stiles said pulling Sourwolf closer to him protectively.

"O-okay then," The Sheriff said, backing off, a little surprised by the strong reaction he got, "…who's the lucky girl then? Lydia?"

"No."

He paused, "Allison?"

"Oh, ew dad no, she's like Scott's ex…that's just gross dude, really."

"Then who's the animal for?"

Stiles shifted uncomfortably, he really didn't want to have to explain anything, not to mention he didn't want to have to lie to his dad…again, while he was in the hospital where Karma could just be a dick and smack him over the head and be all like oops sorry looks like we actually do need your dad to die, say bye bye Stiles.

"He-he's mine," Stiles said after a moment, "You know how much I love plushies."

"Stiles…I haven't seen you with a plushie in public since you where five, I haven't seen you with a plushie inside since you where ten, do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Uh duh, dad, closet plushie lover here, still have every single one of them in my…ha…closet…that's ironic. Lolz." He shifted again, really this seat is hella hard, like a fucking rock, cant they get a cushion on these things?

"Stiles…truth, now."

"Really dad, not gonna comment on my use of the word 'Lolz'…or the fact I called it a word when its an acronym? What kind of father are you?!" Stiles said awkwardly trying to change the subject.

"Stiles.."

Dammit, not working, of course that wouldn't work, it was his dad, his dad is the master of the Stiles talk, that trick wasn't going to work…now he wanted pretzels. Or just a bag of salt…and then some water…and in that order.

Stiles sighed, truth, truth,…there had to be some half truth in here, one that didn't involve Derek, or money, or anything overly suspicious, "I-I-I was just worried about you is all, you know cause you could've died last night…I couldn't stand to think about that."

He looked down and nuzzled Sourwolf's head, thinking of Derek as he did so. There that wasn't so bad, that counted as a half truth right? He had been worried about him, and the wolf did make him feel better, soooo yeah, just leave out the Derek bits and it's a perfect little story. Not a lie, not a truth. Compromise.

His dad's expression softened, "I'm sorry kiddo, didn't mean to worry you."

"It's fine," Stiles mumbled an awkward silence falling over the room.

"So, how's school?"

"Didn't go."

"Okay uhm how's Scott?"

"Same loveable idiot he's been for the past sixteen years."

"Uh Melissa?"

"Worked to the bone like usual…is there a reason we're going through this?"

Stiles dad shifted in his bed and coughed, "Nope, no reason."

"Oooookaayyyyy…then uhm…when are they letting you out?" Stiles asked, mumbling slightly, and scratched his head, his eyes now fixed on a leaf that had gotten stuck on the corner of the window…it was strangely hypnotic…and exceedingly annoying. Like omg I hate you but I can't stop looking at you annoying. The type that no matter how much you tried to look away and think of something else you just couldn't. Yeah. Life's a bitch.

The Sheriff sighed, "Uh I think probably tomorrow from what I overheard from the nurses, the doctor hasn't come in yet to officially say anything, but I think they want to keep me over night just to make sure I'm…okay…"

Stiles nodded, he had expected as much, and he really couldn't complain, he was glad that his dad was going to be in the hospital for surveillance, it would be good. Maybe the doctor could finally get him to listen when Stiles said don't eat all that fattening, artery clogging, greasy food, also known as all the things that his dad loved. And he was going to have to make a stop at the station. He hadn't been kidding when he said he'd get everyone on the force to make sure he ate healthfully. They all cared bout him and besides who could resist the amazingness that was, the Stiles?

"I'll at Scott's again then," Stiles replied.

"Okay yeah, that's good," The sheriff broke into a yawn halfway through his sentence, yep, time for Stiles to go.

"Yep, well I'm gonna go now," He said gesturing the door and re-re-repositioning himself on that blasted chair again,"You know, so you can get your beauty rest, gotta have you in top form and all that jazz." He tapped his dad's arm with his fist, "Cya."

His dad nodded and Stiles stood up to give his dad an awkward hug before turning to leave, with Sourwolf still in his arms.

Stiles let a tentative grin paste itself on his face.

He was happy.

His dad was going to be okay.

oXoXoXo

Red, hot pain was the first thing he felt. He almost wished he had died. It would've made dealing with the consequences of life so much easier…now that he thinks of it…why is he even still alive?

Fabian shot up from his position on the ground, his breathing labored and sweat drenched his face, it was almost as if he'd awakened from a nightmare, but that was impossible, the pain that coursed through his veins like a hot iron was testimony to that. Which left the big question to be answered.

How was he alive?

He should be dead, he shouldn't be able to move, even with all the discomfort it gave him, it defied all logic.

He should be dead.

Fabian gulped and closed his eyes, trying to remember, trying to remember those final moments before the world had turned into black, evil, agony.

Nothing.

Nothing came to mind at all, no memory, just a black empty hole as if someone had reached inside of his mind and stolen the critical moment. To be frank, it was…terrifying. Fabian's memory was perfect, he'd never forgotten anything in his entire existence, which was a very very long time, it's one of the things that had made him so valuable to the high court and it made the loss of a memory that much more disturbing.

Fabian shakily got to his feet, his dagger was gone, probably taken by Gerard, who of course was gone as well, his snakey demon cohort along with him. Nothing had gone as planned, everything had gone wrong.

Fabian took one tentative step, then another, and another, he felt drained and weak and tired, barely hanging onto his connection to this layer. He needed to feed, he needed dreams…

He needed blood.

No. He shook his head, he promised himself he'd never go there, he'd only take dreams, things people forgot about already, he'd never sink his teeth into a living creature…it was wrong…it went against everything he stood for…everything he strived to return to.

He ignored the little voice in his head that told him to go along with it, just take a sip, no one would expect otherwise, he'd already been abandoned by the light, he should embrace the darkness, and fulfill its dark desires. Give into the lust, the rage, and need to feed, the need to destroy, the need to wreck havoc on the world.

No.

He wouldn't do it.

But he needed to feed.

He needed to survive.

He needed his strength.

He had to stop Gerard.

He had to reclaim his seat on the council in paradise.

And to do that he needed help.

He needed Stiles.

He made it to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the lights below him. They illuminated his dark skin with a faint orange glow, hiding his scars and bruises, and bringing out the sharp edges of his cheekbones, the strong defined jaw, his piercing eyes, his determined mouth.

The wind tousled his hair and he stood there, proud and strong, like a warrior after a trying battle.

Like an avenging angel.

He turned from the scene in front of him. The lights, the cars, the sounds, the smells. This was what he wanted to protect, and this…the scene he now faced, the darkened, dead ground that covered the cliff, was what he wanted to prevent. And he would.

Stiles.

He must find him.

It was time to finally make use of him and his friends.

It was time to declare war on hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N ANNNNNNND SCENE! OMG THE PLOT IS THICKENING...idk how long this is gonna be but the plot is definetly about to start speeding up. Again I'm sorry for the long wait and i hope there aren't too many errors, dont have a beta soo yeah gotta work with what i got which is me lol. Anyway, am i the only one who freaking loves that last line? And I'm sure you'll have questions but they will be answered, i'm sure all you smart people have figured out what Fabian wants lol. So like this can probably be considered like the end of part I? I guess cause idk we're getting into the nitty gritty now and all like that. So expect things to get alot more violent, alot more angsty, alot more dark, alot more...more? Lol. It's gonna be a bumpy ride but i hope i dont disappoint and I hope you'll stay to the end AS ALWAYS MUCH LOVE AND THANKS! I HOPE YOU LOVED THIS! REVIEW FAV FOLLOW ALL THAT JAZZ AND PLZ ANYONE WHO CAN INVITE ME TO AO3 AND LIKES THIS PLEASE DO SO! D;
> 
> -Archie~


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